


Medusa

by LetyMartini



Category: Pentatonix
Genre: #mavi, Greek Mythology - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-09-28 07:26:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10079453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetyMartini/pseuds/LetyMartini
Summary: Finding a boy whose life was worth sparing was something Avriel had not witnessed in a long time. He did not like it. It went against his nature.But damn, such an ethereal creature deserved just another day among the living before turning into the most beautiful piece of art ever known.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> This is my first attempt of a long term project and I'm really excited about, hope you enjoy it!

Greek mythology was always surrounded by a mix between mystery and esotericism, a chess game between mortals and immortals. Humanized Gods having the power to change your fate with just a snap of fingers, and since they mirrored the human kind, mistakes were a huge part of their existence. That's why the myths are full of tragedy and disgrace, perfect Gods living in a imperfect world equals chaos. 

\---

Avriel woke up with a headache out of this world. It was like someone was hammering his head over and over, the sound echoing through his mind like a tick clock. It took a while for him to open his eyes, the pain spreading to his neck and shoulders, forcing him to stay still as he scanned the place with half closed eyes. A cave, he was in a cave. Brownish stones covering the walls, dark corners staring back at him as the sun passed timidly by little spaces between the rocks, making the atmosphere look less creepy.

There was dust everywhere. It made the air thick and dry, like the most arid desert, however it was as cold as the Siberian winter. Avriel was freezing, now realizing he was wearing just a thin white tunic over his bare body, his long curly hair a mess and his lower back hurting from laying in a hard surface he believed it was made of stone too, just like every damn thing in this place.

_Where am I? What happened?_ Were the two burning questions on his mind.

After a few minutes, the pain was less excruciating and he got up slowly, sitting on the edge of the "bed" and looking around the cavern. He gasped in surprise as he found human size stone forms staring back at him, as if he was the one to blame, horror and angry plastered in their faces for the eternity.

Men, women, children. Avriel counted, there were dozens of them, in every corner, everywhere you looked, like a reminder of something he did not understand. He felt numb, confusion filling his mind as he walked around the dimmed lit cave, the sun illuminating a few of the stone figures and placing shadows around the walls.

He quickly realized that those were real people and the thought made his stomach drop in horror and wonder. The forms were too perfect, the fear too real to replicate even by the most talented sculptor. As he paced around admiring the sadistic artistry, he wondered who could possibly had done this and _how_ , and more important, why was he there and why he did not remember anything.

Avriel was angry, his mind a swirl of emotions and unanswered questions. He scoured the place like a madman, searching for some kind of clue, anything to ease his doubts. He went outside, his eyes hurting with the sudden change of lighting, but found nothing. Forrest everywhere, the nearest civilization was probably a few miles away, not a living soul seemed to have touched that place in years. The chilly autumn wind and the mountains in the horizon were his only companions for now.

\---

The first days alone in the cave were a nightmare. Avriel had already turned the place upside down in search for answers, but the only thing he found were more statues and, no matter where he looked, they always seemed to be staring at him. They had this knowing look behind the stamp of fear, like they knew every answer Avriel was looking for. He was mortified, fear and anxiety fighting inside him every second.

He was grateful for the fruit trees around the cave. Apples, peaches and even some blackberries were preventing him from starvation. Also, he started to hunt, improvising a spear with some pointed sticks, adding some birds and a little rabbit to his meals. He did not know how to start a fire, so he skinned and ate his dinner raw. It was not the most glamorous sight, and definitely not the best taste, but it kept him alive.

A week later, while hunting, he heard something behind the trees, something big. He took his spear and walked slowly in the direction of the sound. As he held his breath, he got closer and watched as a deer peacefully ate its last meal. He aimed his weapon right in the middle of the deer's head, praying that the animal doesn't move.

Avriel had a wild look on his face, he was determined to not die there without finding out what the hell was happening. Killing the damn dear could be a start. As he was ready to throw the spear, the deer looked right into Avriel's pale green eyes and froze. In a second, the deer turned into stone, another living creature condemned to become an eternal sculpture.

The man did not believe what he just saw. He went pale, goosebumps all over his skin, heart beating loud on his ear. He turned around and ran. Ran as fast as he could back to the cave, and when he was approaching that cursed place, he tripped on one of the loose rocks that where all over the area and fell sideways. And, as if all the Gods were teaming up against him, his spear fell from his hands as soon as he tripped, hitting the ground and meeting his lower stomach as he sank down on its sharp head, finally hitting the soil right after.

Avriel never screamed so loud in his life. Blood was flowing from the wound like a cascate. _There is so much blood, so, so much blood._ The pain was on the edge of being unbearable, he cursed the Gods over and over. _W_ _hat have I done, why is this happening?_ He could not move, there wasn't anyone near him to scream for help. He was going to die. A pathetic, confusing death that no one will ever care about. Because he is alone. Because he has no one.

Suddenly, Avriel felt nothing. A tingling feeling near the injury. The pain was gone. He thought he had died, that he was finally free from this doomed life and that he was going to wake up in Elysium, the Gods welcoming his soul to a happy afterlife. However, the sun burning his skin, the wind blowing his messy hair and the hard rocks under his body were telling otherwise.

As he looked down, he did not believe his eyes for the second time that day. The wound was closing like magic, the weapon being pulled out as his skin finally grew back in seconds, no sign of a scar. It was like he was never injured. It was like he could never be injured.

Avriel got up and tried to process everything that happened. This can not be real. It was not possible. As he entered the cave, the statues were there staring at him like always, and now he understood why. He did that, all of them, he turned all of them in stone and for some fucking game of the universe, or the Gods or whatever, he could not remember a single thing.

You have probably heard about Medusa, the only mortal of the three Gorgon sisters born to Phorcys and Ceto, the horrendous monster who can turn anyone in stone with just a look. Well, Avriel did not know how or why, and maybe never would, what he did know is that he was graced with Medusa's power, but with a slight difference: he was immortal and he could control it.

\---

Now, with his 267 years of life, Avriel was a very different person. Being immortal has its vantages - he still looked like 27 -, but the down sides are much more impactful . Attachment was extremely prohibited, he could not fall in love with anyone. Ever. The pain of watching someone you love pass through all the phases of life to die in your arms as you stay to mourn forever was a weight he did not want to carry.

Tonight was hunting night - ah he _loved_ these nights. Avriel learned pretty quickly how to not get bored, and sex appeared to be the perfect past time. He had a ritual: go out, meet a good looking boy, seduce, fuck his brains out, turn them in art, repeat. It never failed, his growing collection of pretty stone boys was his most precious possession.

Some may find this loathsome, disgusting, sadistic. Crazy? Avriel did not care, for him it was art. Just like in a museum, the only difference is that he was the artist and the art lover at the same time. And since he could not allow himself to be attached, he uses his power to give his boys the eternity, freezing them in time, just like him, to be the silent witnesses of his life.

And tonight, he will add another beautiful piece of art to his collection.

\---


	2. One

Los Angeles is the entertainment capital of the world in this century. There's just so many things to do, so many colors to see, so many scents to smell. It's the land of the American Dream to artists all around the country. Hollywood. Fame. Money. These three words rule the city. People arrive with their aspirations tucked in their pockets, a wonder look on their faces and a Starbucks coffee in hands, ready to be embraced by a frenetic life and a world of possibilities at every corner. 

And what a better place to an aspiring sculptor to set roots than this multifaceted city? Avriel knew all the short cuts to be successful, he lived many lives to figure that out. Although he was not a fan of reinventing himself every 30 years, it was a necessary evil. When the 21st century started, he kinda ran out of ideas of names and professions, he wasn't that creative in this aspect. He was Mathew, the florist. David, the bartender. Robert, the waiter. Always in contact with other people, working his smooth talking and attentive eyes to search for the next piece of his collection.

Today, he wanted to be his true self. Not his _true,_ true self. But something in between. He was Avriel, the sculptor. The mysterious artist that rose above many with his particular way of showing emotions through his art. He was becoming known for his perfectionism, his sculptures praised for the raw emotions that transcended the - now - inanimate objects. Some of his boys were being exhibited in one of the rooms of a contemporary art gallery in the Spaulding Avenue. 

Many visitors find his art uncomfortable to look at, the vivid expressions plastered in the boys faces inducing a bugging feeling, the kind of sensation you have when you think you are being followed, that weird crack in the middle of the night that does enough to make you uneasy for the rest of the day, the two second stomach drop when you forget about something important. Humans are bound to take interest in what makes their heart beat a bit too fast, curiosity ruling against the tedious reality. People are fascinated with Avriel's boys, they come up to him and ask what are their stories, what made them so scared, what's the inspiration behind it. Avriel _loves_ the attention. He just smiles politely, a champagne glass on his hand, and says "Well... it's a secret". Everyone applauds, every clap fomenting his ego, unaware of the fact that it was really a secret, and a dark one for that matter.  

\---

After a long day at the gallery, Avriel decided that was hunting night. 

Don't get him wrong though. It was not like he was going to kidnap a pretty boy to turn him in art - even if sometimes he had the urge to do so - that was simply not his style. He liked the long run. The process of gaining someone's trust, the flirting, the lovey dovey looks and shy smiles. He needed the boy to fall for him so he could play along, be the best boyfriend anyone could ever have, leave imprints on his body as he took him from behind, make his voice be the only sound the boy could ever want to hear. He wanted to be last thing on the boy's mind. Avriel wanted to be _unforgettable_.  

As he entered his apartment, he threw his wallet and keys on the kitchen table and went upstairs to take a long shower, already kicking off his shoes and loosening up his tie and belt on the way. Once he undressed himself and stepped under the steaming water, a loud hiss left his throat. He was tense. Avriel did not know why exactly, perhaps because today was the first day in 200 years that he got to be his true self, even if not entirely? Immortality had it's pros, but the cons side was getting to him lately, it was tiring _._

_No. That couldn't be it, not all of it_ , he thinks. There's something more. A feeling, a sensation that was making his stomach flip. He had felt it before, a long time ago when it all changed, back in that doomed cave.

Fear. 

After all this time, Avriel was afraid? It was hard to admit it to himself, but he could not run from his feelings anymore, it was stuck with him like a shadow, sometimes more visible than others, but always there, following every step he took. 

Afraid of what, you wonder? 

Love.

Avriel was terrified that he could fall in love in this process. He had played pretend all of his life, the statues were the witnesses of that dangerous game. This is why he never let none of his boys live enough for attachment, at least from his part, because he was afraid. The heart can't choose who or when, it didn't had a warning, love doesn't follow rules. 

Love thrives from anarchy, from the unexpected, it's as refreshing as rain in the summer, the warm feeling of a cozy blanket in the winter. Love didn't had a guide book, you can not control it, and he absolutely hated that. Love is sweet and magical and wild and everything Avriel was afraid of. 

_Okay. Calm down, deep breaths. You can't just fall apart now, after everything you've been through. Let's get this over with._

After his almost breakdown in the shower, Avriel finished it quickly, trimming some untamed hairs of his well-groomed beard and walking back to his room, a towel hanging low on his hips as his damp curls left a trail of water drops across his back and chest. He chose a simple white shirt, the low neck cut highlighting the beginning of a hairy path on his chest that so many boys loved to follow. On top of it, one of his many leather jackets, a passion he got after watching too many episodes of _Sons Of Anarchy._ After deciding last minute to tie his hair in a low bun in the back of his head, andfinishing it with black jeans and shoes, he looked in the mirror and smiled. He felt comfortable. The shadow of fear was there, but he hoped that the dark of the night could help hide it. 

Avriel jogged downstairs, grabbed his phone, wallet and keys, and closed the door behind him. Once he was in his way to the club, he started to think about who was going to be his next piece of art. He wanted someone different. A challenge, maybe? He was bored, he wanted an adventure. He may had lived many lives, but this bitter feeling of just existing was tearing him apart. The curse made his heart cold, a stone just like his creations, and deep down, everything he has ever wanted was someone able to break that stone, even if he would have to pick up the pieces afterwards. 

After he parked the car, he took a deep breath and headed inside. The deep bass of the music was pumping inside him in like a heartbeat, green lights flickering through the crowded room as everyone danced and kissed. The atmosphere was hot, the smell of sweat, perfume and alcohol invading his nostrils like some kind of drug. He made his way through the grinding couples and found a seat at the bar, ordering a double shot of scotch and drinking in one gulp. He already could feel his body relaxing, and after smiling to the bartender and ordering another, he started to look around. 

Little did he know that someone had his eyes on him first. 

\---


	3. Two

Being social wasn't something Mitch was found of. Not that he was some sort of caveman that only got out if it was absolutely necessary, but there was some nights that he wanted to just crawl under the covers and bundle up like a burrito while watching some sappy romantic movie. Yes, it's as cliché as it sounds. His life was pretty much boring so why not embrace it at its fullest.

Tonight was one of those nights. He was already under the soft covers and deciding what movie would make him cry the most. There was only a problem though. He is tall, blonde and is threatening to invade his apartment if he is not ready to go out in half an hour. Mitch loved Scott, he really did, but his friend irradiated energy 24/7 and sometimes that was enough for the both of them. He is calling Scott for the fifth time to decline the "mandatory club night" - Scott's words - offer when he hears a knock on the door.

"You have ten minutes to get ready, you can thank me later!" Scott yells through the door. Mitch is ten seconds away from committing a murder.

"I WILL KILL YOU, I _SWEAR ._ " Mitch replies, already grumpy for having to leave his safe cocoon of blankets to commit a crime, I mean, send Scott and his excitement away.

"Stop being a drama queen, c'mon! You don't want to get wasted and maybe meet someone interesting?" The blonde argues as soon as Mitch opens the door, the complete annoyed look on the boy's face making Scott back away instantly.

"Scott." Mitch breathes heavily, "You know I'm not feeling it tonight, just go without me."

"But you are my sister! I can't go without you, please Mitchy!" Scott pleaded, even pouting a little, making Mitch bite back a snort.

"You only want me there to play pretend as your boyfriend to make other boys jealous because your flirting game is weak."

"OUCH, That hurt! I'm here trying to be a good friend and you are being mean" Scott replied putting a hand over his heart and making an exaggerated shocked face.

"You know it's true! Just go have fun, I'll be here to buy you coffee and hear about where your flirting led you in the morning."

"Please Mitchy! What happened? You used to love going out." Scott insists, he senses there's something else, he knows Mitch since forever and can see right through him.

"It's nothing... Just the old 'I like you but not that much' bullshit, I will be okay".

"So the date with Philip didn't go well, huh? I knew there was something making you sad, come here hunty." Scott didn't let Mitch reply, he just enveloped his arms around the boy and stayed there. He was known for the heartbreak healing hugs. Sadly, Mitch seemed to need them way too often.

"I'm so tired Scotty, every guy that I think is the one doesn't take me seriously when I say I want a serious relationship. It's like they are afraid and I'm tired of waiting. My heart can't heal that quickly. I guess I should give up and buy ten more cats."

Scott's heart breaks after hearing Mitch talk this way. He holds the boy more tightly and says softly "Shhh, that's not true Mitchy! You deserve happiness and I'm sure your knight in shining armor is out there somewhere, you just have to wait a little more."

"Well, he is fucking late!" Mitch mumbles on Scott's shoulder, making the blonde laugh. This is the real Mitch, sarcastic and sassy and his best friend in the world.

"Okay queen, enough of that! Go get ready and put on your sexiest clothes, come with me tonight! Nothing better to get over a boy than other boys, right?"

Scott is looking with those blue eyes at Mitch with so much hope that he is sure the boy never got a 'no' as an answer. He curses under his breath and nods. "Okay, but if you leave me for a walking six pack you are dead to me."

"Geee, you are welcome, I guess. Go get ready and stop complaining, you will thank me in the morning when you wake up with a hot daddy right next to you."

"Shut up! I'll go get ready before you start talking more shit." Mitch hurries inside his closet questioning why Scott always gets what he wants. But since his burrito plan didn't work, he was going to look good, at least for himself. He chose a pair of black pants and boots, a backless shirt that made everyone and their mothers do a double look and, after debating for about five minutes and whispering 'fuck it' under his breath, a black leather choker around his neck.

When Mitch stepped out of his bedroom, Scott whistled and said "Wow, for someone that was ready to murder me for a going out invitation, you look amazing Mitchy! I think you are the one that is going to leave me for a hot boy."

"One: let's work on your definition of the word 'invitation'. Two: shut up and let's go before I change my mind."

"Okay, I get it! Let's go." Scott went to his car and opened the door for Mitch.

"After the queen." The blonde said while bowing and smirking to his best friend.

"You are so full of shit Scott." Mitch replied as he entered the car trying to hold his laugh, thankful to have Scott in his life. Because well, he managed to make him feel better and get ready in less than half an hour and _that_ takes some skill. He can't help but giggle at the thought.

\---

Once they arrived at the club, Scott was almost jumping with excitement. Mitch, in the other hand, started to have second thoughts. It was packed. Mitch bumped in so many people to get to the bar that he stopped saying sorry half way. When they finally made it, Scott ordered some sort of cocktail for them, having to shout to the bartender to make himself understood. The deep bass of the music seemed to shake the entire building and Mitch hoped to gain some confidence with whatever the blonde ordered for them.

While he waited for the drink, he scanned the place to see if he found someone that was not grinding on another someone and that looked sober enough to hold a conversation. You must wonder why the hell Mitch was looking for sobriety in a club, but hey, it didn't hurt to try.

He was almost giving up when he met a pair of eyes staring at him. The man was sitting on one of the back tables and was almost invisible from this point of view if it wasn't for the club lights illuminating his pupils. He looked down to the drink he was holding, raised the cup in Mitch's direction and smirked, drinking the liquid in one gulp and Mitch could swear the air got sucked from his lungs.

The boy froze, he didn't know what to do because the man got up from the table and started to walk in his direction. Mitch jumped when he heard Scott's voice right on his ear "I guess my theory was correct, have fun with your sexy friend and use protection!" and before Mitch could protest, Scott handed him his drink and disappeared in the crowd.

Mitch pondered his options. He could talk with the man, I mean, no harm in that, right? But something was off about him, he didn't know what it was, maybe it was just his anxiety talking. Yeah, that's probably it. The man was almost at the bar and Mitch thought about running out of the club because those eyes were eating him from the inside but he swear on his life that he could not look away. Mitch took a long gulp of his drink, the burning liquid easing the tension a little, smiled at the man's direction and hoped for the best.

"Your friend left you here all alone?" Were the first words the man said to Mitch, a deep bass voice that enveloped him almost instantly. Now that he was closer, Mitch could see him better: pale green eyes, long brown hair tied in a bun, a fluffy beard that Mitch was itching to stroke and a smirk that seemed glued to his face. Yeah, he was a hot hipster and Mitch took a deep breath to calm himself. Instead, the man's cologne filled his nostrils, spicy and manly, and Mitch wanted to cry.

"Hey, are you okay? My name is Avi." Mitch jumped at his voice, the man got closer and stared at him expectantly. Mitch realized that in addition to not answering he was staring blankly at a random spot and was probably looking like a lunatic. What was happening to him? He needed to calm down. Mitch emptied his glass and replied.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, I'm okay! My friend just went to dance a little. My name is Mitch." His words were quick and he was out of breath like he had ran a marathon. He looked at those green eyes and almost gasped at how pretty they were, almost too beautiful to be real. There was something about them, something mysterious. They were pulling Mitch closer, like when a mermaid lures sailors; sudden, magical and dangerous. He was entranced by them.

"Hello Mitch, pleased to meet you." Avi said, smiling sweetly while grabbing Mitch's hand and kissing the soft skin. _More clichés_ \- Mitch thought - but he couldn't help the blush that appeared on his cheeks. It has been way too long since he was treated with chivalry.

"I spotted you earlier", the man continued, "and to be honest, you are one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever laid eyes on. You are a work of art, Mitch." Avi confessed right away, smirking a little and leaning on the counter of the bar.

"Oh, I-um, thank you? I mean, thank you! That one is new to me, you are original." Mitch answered a little surprised. He tried to play it cool because _moma was not going to fall for Mr. Don Juan right away, I have some dignity left_. The cold truth is that he had to lean on the counter too in order to hide his shaky legs.

"How about I order you another drink so we can talk and get to know each other?" Avi offered, a warm smile of his face and pleading eyes staring at Mitch.

Mitch looked at the man and smiled. He is different, apparently. But he was worried, he didn't want to get drunk and pour all his frustrations into a completely stranger, even if he was a hot one. But dammit, that freaking smile was making his stomach flip and he needed to sit down soon because his legs were failing him.

"Okay, but water is fine! My head is starting to hurt a little and the loud music isn't helping".

"Alright Mitch! Do you want to go somewhere more quiet? There's a little area outside with sofas where people go to take some fresh air." Avi asked a little hesitant.

 _He is cute -_ Mitch thought - A+ for effort. And he can't help giggling at the man, because he is hot and cute and a freaking hipster/hopeless romantic? He didn't know for sure, but Avi is such a mystery and his fucking eyes keep making him want to get closer and he has to stop himself before he grabs the man's neck and claims those perfect lips.

"Yeah, that sounds nice!" Mitch replies quickly. He needs to know everything about the man.

"Amazing! Let's go". Avi ordered their drinks and before Mitch could say anything, the man grabbed his hand, kissed it again and led them through the crowd.

Mitch didn't want to think about how well their hands fitted together, his tiny hand enveloped by Avi's gigantic one. He also didn't want to feel all warm inside neither feel his cheeks getting hot again and even less the tingling sensation where Avi placed those soft lips on his skin. He didn't want to, but his body was overflowing with all of those sensations and the adrenaline was keeping him going. It was dangerous and wild and everything Mitch had longed for.

He just hoped this dream - _again, cliché_ \- lasted more than one night.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

_**marmor angelus**_ **= marble angel, latin**

\---

The walk to get outside lasted longer than Mitch thought. The packed club slowed down their hurry and all he could think about was how warm Avi's hand was against his palm and how much he wished he could feel it all over his body. He cursed his own weakness. Mitch never felt that way before. He met Avi twenty minutes ago and he was already willing to do pretty much anything the man asked him to. A low rumble made him snap out to reality.

"Let's find a seat." Avi smiled and led Mitch to a red leather sofa in one of the corners. The place was much more calmer. The music was softer and there was actually space to walk and oxygen to breathe. Simple yet effective. Mitch liked it.

"I like this! I feel much better, thank you." Mitch smiled as they sat slightly facing each other.

"So Mitch..." Avi said smoothly, the damn smirk never leaving his face "Tell me about yourself."

Mitch looked at the man and almost fainted. He is good. It made him wonder how many times he had said the same words to other pretty boys. Mitch is not a fool. He knows the type, playing along is going to be fun, even though he would have to hide his shaky breaths behind a smile.

"Well, Avi... Wait, is Avi short for anything?" Mitch asked genuinely.

"Avriel, it's Hebrew." Avi explained, sipping on his drink, eyes never leaving Mitch's.

Mitch shuddered at the intense gaze. "Avriel... It's gorgeous, it suits you."

Avi gulped, hearing that angelic voice say his name was almost alluring. It's been so long since he could use his own name. This boy was affecting him in so many ways. He almost forgot his inicial purpose. Mitch smiled at him again and he had to avert his eyes. He was falling, hard. That was not the plan.

"So _Avriel_..." Mitch started, "I'm a music major at UCLA. I do some gigs here and there to pay the bills, mostly with my friend Scott, the one that left me at your mercy." Mitch said smirking. It made Avi laugh, mostly because the boy had no idea the truth those words held. "It's not a glamorous life," Mitch continued, "but it's my passion and I'm happy with it."

"Music, huh? Your voice really is unique, almost siren like I would say. Your singing must be exquisite." Avi charmed. He was entranced by the boy, it was like giant butterflies were flying on his stomach. He was the one that pulled the cards. However, by the way the boy stole his breath away, it was the other way around this time. Again, it wasn't supposed to go like this.

"Oh thank you, Avi! Your voice is quite nice too..." Mitch replied with flushed cheeks. He promised to control himself, but Avi was making him go over the edge. He was giggling like a teenager and his eyes were unable to leave those emeralds. He was pretty much fucked.

"How about you? What does a man like you do for a living?" Mitch continued. He needed to gather more info. Not that he was digging into his life or anything, but just in case.

"Well Mitch, I'm a sculptor. I specially love sculpting human forms, its raw beauty. There's something in it that intrigues me. How natural beauty can be so captivating." Avi answered sitting a few inches closer, flashing his eyes at Mitch.

Mitch saw something sparkle on those eyes. It couldn't be the club lights, right? They were outside. He felt drawn to them, like an invisible string was pulling him closer. He shivered at the thought and backed away slightly.

"Oh... I mean, that's great, you are an artist like me!" Was the best response he could come up in the moment.

Avi chuckled and replied. "Yeah... You could say that." And Mitch sensed that those eyes had so much more to tell. He was so curious. It was eating him apart.

"Do you have something that inspires you the most while sculpting? I know for myself that when I'm songwriting it varies a lot. Places, people, nature, feelings... It all comes together." Mitch insisted.

"I like to explore the most intimate human feelings." Avi began, sitting impossibly closer and breathing against the boy's neck. "Happiness, sadness, anger, fear. Do you know how hard it is to sculpt a face that shows nothing but pure terror, Mitch?" His voice just above a whisper next to Mitch's ear.

Mitch was paralyzed. He didn't know If he should fear this man and run away in that exact moment or to fall completely into oblivion and see what Avriel had to offer. He remembered how boring his life was until moments ago and decided to be adventurous for the first time in his life. His body craved adrenaline and his soul was almost drunk with the taste of freedom.

He stayed. He stayed and that will be his first regret.

"Will you show me one of your creations next time?" Mitch whispered back, lips brushing against Avi's bearded jaw.

"So there will be a next time?" And Avi's smirk couldn't be more suggestive.

"Well... If you want to... I mean-" Mitch couldn't form words to save his life.

"Shhh... Of course you can see them, of course you can see my boys." Avi rumbled while reaching to caress Mitch's face. He looked at his eyes and saw marble and amber and _pure art._

"May I kiss you, _marmor angelus?"_ Those words felt like velvet on Mitch's ears. He couldn't move, he couldn't talk. The crimson color of his cheeks became even more intense. Avi's lips were so close that he could smell his breath: whisky, manly and sinful. He nodded his head like it was the only thing he was sure of.

Avi didn't hesitate to claim that beautiful mouth in a fervent kiss. His hot tongue exploring his boy like he was painting a canvas. Mitch whimpered and pulled Avi closer by the lapel of his jacket, making them moan loudly. Mitch's fingers curled on the hairs in the back of Avi's neck, while the other ran his fingers on Mitch's sides, stopping by his hips and hugging him until they chests met. Everything was hot and wild and not in the books for neither of them.

Mitch pulled back first, the need for oxygen surpassing the lust cursing through his body. He looked at Avi's swollen lips and smiled. He is gorgeous. Maybe dangerous. But delicious nonetheless.

"I-um... You are a really great kisser." Mitch giggled, hiding his face on Avi's neck.

"It's easy when you're kissing such a beautiful creature." Avi smiled gorgeously and Mitch was certain that he would had fallen if he was standing, his entire body felt like jelly. This man was a mystery and he hoped to God he would be able to solve it.

"I should call an uber for you, everyone is already leaving." Avi explained, looking around at the empty sofas.

"Oh... I didn't even realize..." Mitch said vaguely. Deep down he wanted to stay there with Avi and forget about everything else. He didn't even thought about Scott this whole time, what was happening with him?

"Hey..." Avi caught Mitch's attention "You okay?"

"Yeah... More than okay actually." Mitch smiled back, pecking Avi's rosy lips once more.

"I really want to get to know you more Mitch. You have me trapped under your spell, what do you say?" The man smirked while breathing the scent of the boy's neck. It was sweet, almost floral, like a sunny spring day.

"I would like that, a lot." Mitch answered, shivering at the warmth of Avi's breath.

"Does tomorrow sounds good? I don't think I will be able to wait more than that." Avi confessed. He really was falling hard for the boy and for the first time in many lives he wanted to allow himself of that. Even if he didn't know how to deal with so many different feelings. Or the weight the curse had on him.

"Yes, perfect!" Mitch replied "Let me give you my number." The boy found a nude lipstick on his pocket and wrote it down on a napkin. This part was definitely cliché and he loved it.

Avi folded the precious paper and brought Mitch down for a good night kiss. This time it was slow and sweet, like a lover promise. "C'mon, I will call us an uber" _._

Mitch got up and followed him outside, his mind a swirl of emotions. Once they were waiting for the uber to arrive, Avi said quietly "You remind me of a quote from Michelangelo, you know?"

"Really?" Mitch asked, eyes beaming with anticipation.

"I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free." Avi recited, every word engulfing the boy in a trance.

"Wow, it's beautiful Avi, I don't even know what to say". Mitch replied astonished.

"Just say yes on coming with me to the art gallery tomorrow, I need to show you something." Avi looked at him expectantly.

"Of course! I would love to see your work, you seem so passionate about it. Oh look it's my uber! See you tomorrow Avi, text me!" Mitch ran off to the car, Avi smiling at him.

"See you then, marble angel." Was Avi's response, mostly to himself as the car took off.

**\---**

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments and suggestions! Also sorry for any mistakes, English isn't my first language. ;)


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